It had been some time since the knights of House White left the capital and returned to the southwest. They had remained on high alert, worried there might be major trouble, but in the end, it turned out to be nothing more than a minor conflict—an accidental shooting by the Duvali Empire that led to some friction.

Karsten met with the Duvali Empire’s border lord, and through conversation, they reached a peaceful agreement.

Meanwhile, while Karsten had accepted the border lord’s invitation and gone to the castle, the remaining knights were preparing to return to the capital.

“Ipin, you should get ready to leave as well.”

Everyone bustled about with their preparations, except for Ipin, who stood awkwardly in place, unmoving. When another knight urged him, Ipin finally rose to his feet.

“…Ah, got it.”

Ipin hurried to follow after the others, but his mind was elsewhere, crowded with anxious thoughts.

“An accidental shooting is going to take place on the border between Duvali and our Empire. Because of this, the Duke of White is being sent out on a campaign — follow him.”

The sudden order from his master had terrified him. He couldn’t begin to guess what his master truly intended.

‘Why would he give such an order…?’

“K*ll the Duke there.”

At that command, Ipin felt all the blood drain from his body.

“If you fail to kill him, you should know that neither your life nor your family’s safety can be guaranteed.”

Was it ever an easy thing to kill the Duke of White, of all people? Ipin couldn’t hide the turmoil in his heart. Still, he shook his head and repeated to himself,

‘Tonight. It has to be tonight.’

They would be leaving this place tomorrow. That meant tonight was his only chance to carry out his master’s command and assassinate the duke.

‘Get it together, Ipin.’

He tried desperately to steady his nerves.

Meanwhile, not far away, Benon was quietly watching his every move.

A little before midnight, Karsten emerged from the border lord’s castle. Benon immediately approached him.

“Your Highness.”

As Karsten stepped outside, Benon leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

“Understood.”

Karsten replied with a nod, then made his way straight toward the camp.

He raised his voice to the knights who were finishing their dinner in the mess tent.

“Listen up. We’ll be heading back to the capital tomorrow. Make sure there are no weaknesses on the way home.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Hearing their replies, Karsten retired to his own tent earlier than usual.

Time passed, and soon, all the knights had finished their meal and returned to their tents for sleep. In the depths of the night, Ipin quietly got up from his bedroll.

He made his way toward the area near Karsten’s tent, keeping a careful eye on Benon, who was standing watch nearby. Only after waiting for a while did Benon finally leave his post.

Seizing the opportunity, Ipin pulled his hood down low over his face and slipped silently toward Karsten’s tent. Entering with barely a sound, he held his breath as he approached the bed where Karsten lay.

Thankfully, Karsten seemed to be sleeping deeply.

With the duke right before his eyes, Ipin hesitated once more. Even if he killed him now, would he really be able to escape? What if he was caught right away? Was it truly possible to kill the Duke of White with such a straightforward method?

He wrestled with his doubts, but the words that had haunted him echoed once again:

“If you fail, you should know that neither your life nor your family’s safety can be guaranteed.”

Steeling himself, Ipin drew the dagger he’d already coated with poison from inside his cloak, aiming it at Karsten’s heart.

“…!”

And then, with all his strength, he drove the dagger down.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

A few days had passed since Karsten had left for the south. Left alone in the ducal estate, Breti often found herself spending long stretches of time in a daze. This, of course, caused no small amount of worry among the household staff. Most of all, Meliover was deeply concerned about her condition.

“I’ll get up first, Mother.”

“Laterna.”

As Breti stood up from the table, Meliover called out to her gently.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Meliover’s worried gaze flickered between Breti and her barely-touched plate.

Breti didn’t have the courage to meet her eyes.

“N-no, Mother…”

Even calling her “Mother” took all the courage she had. Ever since that night with Karsten, guilt weighed heavily on her heart.

Meliover stood and gently took her hand.

“My dear.”

“…Yes?”

“Ever since you returned from the Imperial ball, you haven’t looked well at all. It worries me so much. Did something happen that night?”

It was true—there had been a problem that night. But it hadn’t happened at the Imperial palace; it had happened right here, in the duke’s estate.

Unsure how to answer, Breti tried her best to avoid Meliover’s eyes.

“It’s just… I’ve had a bit of a headache lately, Mother.”

At Breti’s mention of a headache, Meliover immediately grew flustered.

“I’ll call for the physician right away. Bagi, could you fetch the doctor?”

“Yes, madam.”

Bagi, who had already been worried about Breti’s condition lately, hurried off as soon as Meliover finished speaking.

“You really don’t have to go to all that trouble…”

“When you’re unwell, you should see the physician. For now, come to my room and have some tea for your headache, dear.”

“…Yes, Mother.”

Breti followed Meliover, silently blaming herself for making things more complicated.

Once they reached Meliover’s room, Meliover sent all the servants away and brewed the tea herself.

“Here, this is pravel—it’s good for headaches.”

Meliover pushed the teacup toward Breti.

As the gentle fragrance tickled her nose, Breti felt her mood lift, if only a little.

“Thank you, Mother.”

Breti said with a faint smile. Feeling a bit more at ease, Meliover squeezed Breti’s hand.

“Darling, will you tell me if anything is wrong?”

“….”

“I am your mother, after all.”

Mother.

The word made Breti’s gaze waver for a moment. She hurried to compose herself and forced a small smile.

“I just want to do all the things for you that I never could before.”

As Meliover gently stroked the back of her hand, Breti lowered her head. Her touch was so kind, Breti almost let the words she’d bottled up spill out.

She shouldn’t let herself feel this way toward Meliover. She was supposed to be nothing more than a doll, acting for her sake. Yet, in that moment, she almost believed she really was her daughter.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and the butler, Benon, appeared.

“Is the physician here?”

“No, madam. There’s a visitor for the young lady.”

Startled, Breti turned to look at Benon.

“A visitor? For me?”

“Yes, miss.”

There was no one in the capital who should even know of Breti’s existence. That could only mean someone had come looking for Laterna—but she herself had none of Laterna’s memories.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, milady.”

A familiar voice came from behind Benon. The moment Breti saw who it was, she instinctively lowered herself in a formal greeting.

“Your Highness, Prince.”

The person who had come all the way to the ducal estate to see her was none other than the Second Prince, Gabriel.

Meliover, recognizing him, rose and offered a polite bow as well.

“Your Highness, welcome.”

“Madam, how have you been?”

“I’m well, thank you. But may I ask what brings you here today…?”

Gabriel glanced briefly at Breti.

“I wanted to ask if I might have a moment alone to speak with Miss Laterna.”

At his request, Meliover smiled gently, then led Breti forward by the shoulder and presented her to Gabriel. As Breti hesitated, she found herself standing face-to-face with him.

“Laterna has been suffering from headaches and hasn’t been able to sleep well lately.”

“That is troubling indeed.”

“That’s why, if Your Highness would be so kind as to speak with her for a while, it would make me very happy.”